


Pulse

by sepia_sigyn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A bit of Magic, Comfort, Crying, Dancing, F/M, FutureAgent!Reader, Karaoke, Linguist!Reader, Loki's gonna Loki, Loki’s atonement journey, Minor content warnings for alcohol and some references to drug addiction in the song choices, Nightclub, One Shot, Some post-New York angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 15:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepia_sigyn/pseuds/sepia_sigyn
Summary: 2012!Tessaract-stealing Loki goes looking for a little late night adventure in Tokyo in the recent past.He meets you.





	Pulse

_WOMB, Shibuya, Tokyo. 2007. 12:58 AM_

Your eyes dart around the room at the sea of bodies thumping and pulsing to the beat.

You catch the eyes of your companions, a college friend and her boyfriend, who lifts his _keitai_ and shows you the time. You all whoop and cheer together. This is it. Too late to make the last train.

You’re in it for the night.

Then you see him.

Tall. Lean. _Handsome_. But there’s a softness there too in the way he’s hunching a little as he dances. He looks about the same age as you but there’s something odd about him.

_Not in an entirely bad way_, you think to yourself.

Sleek black hair, flared out in what _could_ be a very trendy cut. _Nihonjin_? You look closer. _Gaijin_. That almost translucent pale white skin, so otherworldly-looking in the darkened room it gives you goosebumps. Irish, or Australian maybe? Or maybe even like a Nordic…

Somehow, while you’d been trying to complete his entire genealogy in your mind, he’d managed to sneak up right behind you.

And you catch him staring.

Right at your exposed back and the curve of your bum in the tight sequenced mini skirt you never thought you’d wear but here you are. 

But as your mouth opens to chastise him with what you hope will be a witty bilingual reply he appears again in front of you. 

Or so you? 

_Whoa_. Maybe the whiskey had been hitting you harder than you realized. 

He catches your eye and smiles. He’s coming closer now, doing a sort of awkward almost cha-cha while undulating his arms like a hula-dancer.

You grin and mimic him, closing the distance between you two. 

Closer. 

And closer.

And closer. 

Until you’re pressed right up against him.

_Firm._

Chest to chest. 

You inhale. 

Deeply.

_Gosh_.

He smells of cedar and juniper berries and leather and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s like burning embers melting into an iceberg. 

He lifts your arms around his neck and you sway together to the beat of the thumping music, the strobing laser lights offering only tiny glimpses of him. You look up and his eyes are glued shut. Seeing his long, white neck so exposed to you when you barely know each other kindles the growing heat in your lower belly. 

_Trust_.

You feel the vibration of his voice within his throat. He’s mumbling something…not in Japanese, not in English. But it’s actual words with meaning in some language, you’re certain.

There’s a rhythm to it. Almost like chanting. 

You want to rest your lips on his neck and take every word he utters into your body until there is no you or him, just these beautiful, enchanting sounds. 

Finally his eyelashes flutter open.

And you nearly lose all the strength in your legs. 

He has the most brilliant pair of bright blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They actually seem to be _glowing_ a little.

He blinks and you gasp. 

They appear to be more of a mellow seafoam green now. Still breathtaking. And now these eyes are searching yours. 

“Forgive my impertinence, dear lady, I should have introduced myself before.” 

British. You were close. And very posh-sounding too. “Dear lady”? Just his style? You don’t mind a little strangeness. Or maybe he was actually some sort of earl or duke or something? He certainly dressed the part, in his designer silk shirt and immaculately fitted black pants. And you’d been very, very careful around his pointy snakeskin boots because they looked like they were worth several months of your teaching stipend at least. 

“No time like the present,” you smile. 

He bends down and brushes his lips against your ear. “Loki.” Those two little syllables vibrated through your body and landed right where he, no doubt, intended for them to land.

What a lovely name. _Loki_. 

In exchange, you stretch up onto your tip toes and whisper your name into his ear.

He grins and offers a sweeping bow. “A pleasure,” he reaches out his hand and pulls you back in. 

You stay like this for a while, dancing close to the beat of the music. Your friend catches your eye and waves before miming sleep hands indicating that she and her boyfriend were heading off for a little…downtime at one of the many love hotels in the vicinity of the club. You wave her on and rest your head back on this stranger’s, this Loki’s shoulder. 

After about four songs, his panting lips reunite with your now-reddened ear: “What say you, my dear, to a change in venue?”

You gasp. Did he mean… 

He takes note of the tension in your body and whispers, “I only meant, perhaps someplace a bit quieter where we can become better acquainted whilst sitting down.” 

You nod. “What are you up for?” 

“Why don’t we simply take the air and see where the evening leads us?” 

“I’m game. Let’s do it.” 

You wander out of the club onto the streets of Shibuya. The city pulses around you and is full of inviting options. You could cozy up in an _izakaya_, or grab a late night bowl of ramen. Or maybe… 

“Do you like to sing?” 

Loki grins. “I am actually rather fond of singing. Though I confess I am a bit out of practice. I’ve been a bit…preoccupied with work.”

“What kind of work is it you do?”

“I’m what you might call a…keen investor in foreign markets. I’m someone who’s always on the lookout for ways that my…company can expand its influence as a strong competitor against…local interests.”

“Which explains why you’re here then. I thought it might be something like that.” 

“And you, my dear?” 

“I’m a graduate student in linguistics. Finishing my degree this spring and hopefully getting placed with an international agency in America.” Your eyes twinkle. “Can’t say much more than that, I’m afraid.” 

“That’s alright, my dear,” he meets your eyes and takes your hand in his. “So singing. I suppose you’re suggesting that we try our hand at a bit of karaoke.”

“Can we? I know it might seem weird going just the two of us but we can practice our best songs?”

“Or try out new ones.” 

“Only if you promise not to laugh.” 

He smirks. “I cannot promise that.” 

You kick at his shin. “No matter, let’s do it!” 

You make your way to Sing! Sing! Karaoke Club and are fortunate enough to get a small room towards the back. The space is really tiny – Loki has to duck his head to get in the door and the seating is about the size of a loveseat couch, but there is a large window with a view of the twinkling lights across the city.

You take a moment to look out the window and sigh as Loki starts fiddling around with the massive song list on the screen.

How fortunate you were to have a little adventure like this. When you woke up this morning, you couldn’t have imagined you’d be sharing a karaoke room with a view, ice cold beer, and a plate of _gyoza _with- 

“’You’re a God’?” you ask, looking at the song by Vertical Horizon highlighted on the screen. “Don’t know that one.” 

Loki coughs, choking on his beer and you tap his back and hand him a glass of water.

You knit your eyebrows together and you keep looking at the list. “Pick something fun and upbeat to start. How about ‘Love Shack’?”

Loki rolls his eyes but a quirk of a smile at the corner of his lips betrays him, “As you wish.” 

You toss him a mic and convince him to do the little “If you see a faded sign…” intro while you do the “Loooove Shack!” Then you both sing the main parts together. And, whew…even on a poppy song way off his range his voice is rich and deep and mellow and…_uhnnnnnh_. You feel your pulse quicken as the song closes and you both clap for each other. 

There’s something very intimate about singing, just the two of you, like this. 

His eyelashes flutter and he looks up at you with longing. “You sing one now, darling. Just you.” 

You blush. “I ah…well. Let me see.”

Something light, sweet, easy to start. You open to a random page in the English binder and the first thing you recognize is “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany. You chuckle to yourself. A little on the nose. 

Loki nods and grins and claps as you take a little bow. Apparently he appreciates on the nose.

You get into a groove, plucking a few more standards out from the big plastic binder, switching between duets and solos. 

Loki holds the binder in his hands for several seconds and grows very quiet before punching in the numbers for his next choice: 

“Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails.

Now you grow quiet. Your instincts tell you this man has secrets, dark secrets in his heart. What could they be?

Seeing how you’re now giving him a bit of a concerned look, he quickly clicks on a new song.

“Major Tom? I like this one. It’s that Bowie song, right?” He nods.

But when it comes on, it’s in German! 

You both laugh in surprise and dive right in. And, you note, between your fortunate fluency and Loki’s, well, near-fluency, you do pretty darn well.

“So you speak German too.” 

“_Ja_,” Loki grins.

You edge closer. “I do love a talented tongue.”

He leans into you, “Likewise, my dear.”

The mics fall from your hands. You slide into his lap and wrap your arms around him. 

“It’s all yours,” you whisper before leaning in to catch his mouth with your own. 

Minutes later, you separate and rest your head on his shoulder. Then you notice the clock.

“Hey mister.”

“Mm?” his eyes are still closed.

“We have about thirty minutes left. Do you want to sing your song now? The one you were trying to find before. I remember it now. It’s called ‘Space Oddity.’ It would make a nice duet to end on.” 

He snaps up his mic and tosses it from his right hand to his left. “Then what are we waiting for, darling?” 

But there’s a change in him. His eyes have gone soft and, as you sing the song together finding a gentle back and forth in the verses and background parts and harmonies, they begin to water. 

When you look at him to reply with the “She knows” to “Tell my wife I love her very much” tears are streaming down his cheeks.

As the long ending plays, he’s silent. You wrap your arms around him. He is very still, like a statue. He’s mumbling again and appears to regain his composure within a couple minutes.

“Loki,” you say softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head and takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Then he turns your palm upwards, leans over, and kisses the inside of your wrist. You take his hand and do the same, his quickening pulse vibrating against your lips.

Your eyes meet. His irises are fully blown and you imagine yours are too. Your legs are actually trembling a bit as you stand and reach your hand out to help him up. 

You settle the bill, depart, and walk very briskly towards your third and final destination for the evening. 

\--

_New York. S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. 2012. 7:56 AM_

The situation was all hands on deck and you were assigned to head up monitoring and assessing any and all communications surrounding the invading creature, this alien named Loki.

You'd swallowed your shock at recognizing the polite and passionate man you’d spent that evening with a few years earlier in Tokyo. You could not believe this was the same man who appears before you now, misguided and mad.

But you push those memories away for now and focus on the flash drive that one of your junior associates sent over to you from the facility where the Tessaract was stolen. Loki had left it shortly after he took Dr. Selvig and an agent named Barton under his control.

This flash drive was shaped like a little microphone and bore a note from Loki himself directly addressed to you:

_Rockets full, as the light commands. -L_

Your pulse quickens for a moment as your eyes linger on his elegant script and imagine his rich, deep voice mumbling those words into your ear. Then you remember your training, the breathing exercise you were taught early on specifically for moments like this.

You manipulate the audio file onto your touchscreen and open it.

A song plays. Synth-y. 80s. A few odd looks from your colleagues. You flex your wrist to turn the sound down a bit and continue to listen.

You know it.

But this version. 

German lyrics. 

You mind reels. Back to 2007.

Then you lock in on the time a friend told you they were from the same town as the singer of that song, the same town in Germany where, you run a quick search of the log on highly controlled substances, a Dr. Heinrich Schäfer- 

“Stuttgart! He’s headed to Stuttgart! Inform Fury immediately.” 

You cover your mouth, hoping there will be enough time for this new team, these Avengers, to stop him before the unthinkable happens.


End file.
